The ride back to Eden was grueling. Usually, I would be having a conversation with Ayame, but she wasn't here with me.
When I made it to my destination, I handed the driver some coins, and then I headed off to my home.
Upon knocking on the door, my father answered, slightly jumping in surprise.
"Ares? Back already?"
"Do you know where Ayame's house is?"
My father furrowed his brows in thought, wondering why I would ask such a question. Seeing that Ayame wasn't next to me, he likely made some sort of connection, but he didn't press the matter.
"The Fujimoto's live on 1211 Broad Creek Road," my father finally said.
"Thanks."
I left without another word.
The walk to the Fujimoto household took longer than expected since it was halfway across the city. I ended up passing through the commercial district where the sounds of vendors and advertisers drowned each other out, forming a low perpetual buzz. I then took a branching path that led to a subdivision where the house was located. Finally, when I arrived, I saw Mrs. Fujimoto outside, watering a small flower garden filled with white stargazer lilies. Sakimi watched idly by, wearing a prim apron dress and a sunhat that fluttered in the wind.
My footsteps caught Mrs. Fujimoto's attention, and she gave me a smile, saying, "What brings you here?"
I took a deep breath. "Have you seen Ayame around?"
Mrs. Fujimoto tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"So, Ayame isn't here."
"Why would she?"
I turned away.
Ayame didn't respawn.
"Did...something happen?" Sakimi asked.
I didn't say anything. Instead, I ran. Refusing to look back, I sprinted away without any direction in mind. I weaved through the multitude of pedestrians, running and running and running until I made it to the city's edge. It was a thin forest that surrounded the sparse buildings.
My pace slowed to a walk, and I made my way through the trees and bushes. Eventually, I came across a small wooden bridge that curved over a murky stream. It was completely unlike the bridge from my previous life, which spanned over a half-mile in length over a massive river.
As I stepped on the wooden planks, they made soft clunks as if glad that somebody had finally acknowledged them. When I leaned over the railing and gazed at the stream below, I didn't see any reflections; there were only greens and browns.
"Have you finally realized it?" a female voice asked.
It seemed that Virgil had returned.
"You've been denying yourself ever since defeating that dungeon," she continued.
I muttered, "She didn't respawn at her house."
"That's because she can't."
"But companion NPCs are supposed to retreat from a fight when their health reaches zero. They're supposed to return to their hometown!"
"Have you yet to learn? This game isn't like the original. You noticed that during the hidden boss fight, didn't you?"
"So, you're saying...she's dead for good."
"That's right," Virgil said. "People die when they're killed. I recall Ayame saying the same thing before."
"But..."
I wanted to object. I wanted to scream so bad, but there wasn't anything I could do. In the end, it was my fault for letting Ayame die.
When my mother died, I vowed never to let anyone else perish. And yet, I failed. I keep failing.
I'm useless.
In terms of videogaming, permanent death wasn't new. Fire Emblem and Darkest Dungeon were examples of games that had this same mechanic. If a character died, you could never get them back again.
Virgil broke my silence by saying, "We wanted to create a fully immersive experience. As such, we incorporated one of the most realistic aspects in the physical world: death."
Why do I feel like I've lost a part of myself? Of course, Ayame had combat utility, but that wasn't the reason why I was sad about losing her. It was something more. It was the same feeling that struck me when Grace left my life.
Was the word heartbreak?
No.
Grief?
Maybe.
Despair? Anguish? Misery?
I don't know.
I couldn't describe it.
"You must be having a tough time with this," Virgil said. "I'll leave you, for now."
And so, I returned to the silence, which was my only friend.
Unfortunately, my only friend ran away when a certain young girl's voice rang out.
"Ares! There you are."
It was Sakimi. Sweat glistened on her skin, but her breathing was steady. I'm surprised she managed to find me this quickly. She must be incredibly athletic for a fourteen-year-old.
Instead of acknowledging the girl's presence, I returned my gaze to the stream as it flowed up ahead.
"Tell me what happened," Sakimi said.
For a moment, I didn't respond. Sakimi patiently waited, staring at me with those glistening red eyes that pervaded no enmity.
With a sigh, I finally said, "Ayame died. She saved me when we were in a dungeon."
A tear trailed down Sakimi's cheek, but she didn't show any sadness.
"What were Ayame's last words?" the girl asked.
"She wanted me to tell her family that she didn't regret anything and that she loved you all."
"I...see. Anything else?"
"She also wanted me to tell you that...it wasn't my fault...even though all of it was my fault. I was the one who let her die. I made a promise to your father that I would protect Ayame, but I failed. I couldn't protect her. In the end, she was the one who had to protect me. I'm so useless. I'm a failure! Why can't I do anything right!"
Sobs were leaking through my words, but I somehow managed to keep my emotions in check.
Sakimi turned around.
"I won't say that I forgive you," she said, "but you didn't do anything wrong. Ayame knew the risks when she wanted to help you fight against the demons' reign."
Sakimi's knees were buckling, and she wiped her face with her arms. From this angle, I couldn't tell for sure if she was crying, but then her sniffling gave it away.
At that, Sakimi walked away.
I stayed at the bridge until nightfall, and when I finally returned to my home, Mr. and Mrs. Fujimoto were outside, knocking on the door. When my father answered the guests, Mr. Fujimoto grabbed the other man's collar in a fury.
"Stop!" I called. "He doesn't have anything to do with this!"
"He's the one who birthed and raised you! He has everything to do with this!"
Mrs. Fujimoto pulled back her husband, but the man kept on wailing.
"You're the one who killer!" Mr. Fujimoto yelled at me, with tears streaming down his face. "If it wasn't for you, my precious daughter would still be standing with us! But where is she now? You didn't even bring back a corpse for the funeral! She's gone for good! My daughter! She was my everything, and you took her away from me!"
"Honey," Mrs. Fujimoto said. "Calm down."
Mr. Fujimoto shook off his wife and punched me in the face. I didn't feel any pain, but I still felt the force of rage behind the impact.
"Give her back!" the man screamed. "Give her back! You stole her from us! You thief! You murderer! Give her back right now!"
No...
I can't take it any longer.
I started sobbing, and before I knew it, I could barely see because of all the tears that had welled up in my eyes. I fell to my knees before Ayame's parents. My head was slumped, and I tried to wipe away the grief, but it was futile. The tears kept on coming.
"You're right," I said. "It's all my fault. I'll do whatever you want. I don't know how to atone, so tell me what it is I should do."
Mr. Fujimoto scowled. "There's nothing. You can't do anything to atone."
"Isn't there anything?" I wailed. "I'm begging you!"
"Get out of my sight, you useless murderer."
Mr. Fujimoto turned and left. His wife followed behind with a worried expression on her face.
My father tried to comfort me, but I pushed him away.
"I'm sorry for putting you through this trouble, father. I'm leaving again. Bye."
My father hesitated. "It's alright...bye. Good luck on your travels."
Under the full moon's light, nothing shone more dreadfully than my lachrymose eyes.